Page 43 of Forbidden Vows

“I guess…”

“I’ve got you, okay?” He resumes his gentle caressing motion down my back. It helps soothe my frayed nerves. “You’re not alone, and you’re not at your father’s mercy anymore either. Give it time, Eileen. We both have quite the road ahead of us. But I’ve got you, and you’ve got me. I meant every word of those vows, and I intend to make sure that my actions match said words.”

It’s my turn to cup his cheek as I melt into him. “I trust you.”

Even as I say the words, there’s still a sliver of doubt persisting somewhere beneath the bottom layers of my consciousness.Fears that have lingered in my heart ever since I was a little girl. Fears built on the hurtful words and actions of the people who were supposed to love and protect me.

I feel as though I’ve just traded one cage for a slightly prettier one, somehow, and I need Anton to prove me wrong.

Chapter 15

Eileen

The Karpov mansion is impressive.

It’s a sprawling property with a generous Victorian-style home built on three levels, surrounded by lush gardens and sinuous stone-paved paths that make the whole thing look like something out of anAlice in Wonderlandtribute.

I feel small as I step out of Anton’s Lexus, parked at the bottom of the mansion’s front steps. There’s an artesian fountain right behind us, a skirt of evergreen blossoms reaching out from the bottom.

“Andrei and Laura have the east wing; we’ve got the west,” Anton says, watching my awe leave my mouth hanging open. “The northern part of the building has everything else. Home offices, a fully equipped gym, a massive kitchen, two living rooms, a study, a library slash reading room, tearoom, dinner hall, and too many bathrooms for me to count.”

“Holy smokes.”

“I know it’s enormous and may seem intimidating, but it’s always welcoming and warm. There’s plenty of natural light andfriendly staff around every corner. Your every need will be taken care of. It’s your home now, too,” he says.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Come on in, Mrs. Karpova.”

“Donovan-Karpova.”

“That’s a mouthful, baby. It’s in the official documents, but you can’t expect me to say the whole thing every time.”

I relent, taking a deep breath and welcoming the fresh morning air. We’re on the north side of Chicago, where the suburbs thin out and the atmosphere feels a lot cleaner. Hell, I could get used to this. The long drive from the city is actually worth it. “Okay, Mrs. Karpova it is,” I tell my husband.

“Come on, Mrs. Karpova. We’ve got a bed to break in after I give you a tour of the place,” he says. “Ian here will handle our luggage.”

As if summoned, Ian comes down the white marble steps with a pleasant smile. “Welcome to the Karpov residence, Mrs. Karpova,” he greets me. “It is an absolute pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, too, Ian.”

“Like Mr. Karpov said, allow me to handle your bags. Please, enjoy your new home. There will always be someone around to assist you, should you need anything.”

I give him a slight nod and let Anton guide me up the steps, his arm lovingly wrapped around my waist. As soon as we enter, I feel as though I’ve just stepped into a fairy tale come true.

“My God, it’s like a museum,” I gasp.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” Anton says as he gives me the ground-floor tour. “What you see here was only recently brought in—for you.”

“For me?” I’m breathless.

The hallways are adorned with generous satin drapes and a perfectly polished French marble floor. Busts and Baroque-style statuettes mark each of the floor-to-ceiling windows. There are Persian-inspired tapestries mounted on the accent walls in each of the common rooms, with dark wood furniture and plush seating everywhere.

“For you,” Anton says.

“Oh Anton,” I whisper and pull him into a kiss. “You really didn’t have to.”

“I kind of did,” he replies. “I promised you a home where you would feel safe and happy. And what did your favorite poet say?”

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